The Porridge Diaries
by Gaia30
Summary: Goldilocks and the Three Bears" in the style of "The Princess Diaries." A harmless, humorous parody.


A/N: I wrote this as an assignment for my AP English Language class. This is my interpretation of the story "Goldilocks and the Three Bears", in the style of The Princess Diaries, by Meg Cabot. I thank her for writing such a fun story. I know I had fun writing this version. =)  
  
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Meg Cabot, HarperTrophy, HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., Buena Vista International, Walt Disney Pictures, or anyone else who owns rights to The Princess Diaries. No money is being made from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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April 12, Country General Hospital  


THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING! I'm writing this in the hospital, and I don't have much time, because Mom's right outside trying to convince the doctor that there's no history of mental illness in our family.  
  
I guess it does sound kind of crazy. My story, I mean. No one believes me.  
  
_I_ hardly believe _myself._  
  
Why is it that when something unbelievable happens, no one ever believes it? Even when it really happened?  
  
None of this makes any sense, so I have to write it down now, or someone will convince me that it never happened. I guess I'll start from the beginning.  
  
I decided to go for a walk in the woods this morning. No reason. Just wanted to get away. So, I was walking along, minding my own business, when I saw a house. Now, it was a nice-looking house, and I was kind of lost, so I walked up to knock on the door and ask for directions.  
  
I raised my hand to knock, and the door FELL OPEN. It was creepy, like a horror movie or something. So I stuck my head in, and yelled, "Hello? Is anyone home?" I realize now that they do _that_ in horror movies, too, so it probably wasn't the best idea, but it's over and done with now.  
  
I hope.  
  
Anyway, I went in, since it seemed like no one was home. There were three bowls on the table. They smelled weird, and turned out to be porridge. Who eats porridge nowadays, anyway? Wheat-bran flakes, maybe. Porridge, no.  
  
Then my stomach started growling. So I ate some of the porridge in the first bowl.  
  
Hey, they left it out, and the door _was_ hanging open. It's not like they really cared.  
  
I think.  
  
But it was cold. We're talking _icy_ here. So I ate some from the next bowl -- too hot. The third bowl was just right, though. And REALLY good. I take back what I said -- more people should eat porridge. It's, like, brain food or something.  
  
But it does make you kind of sleepy. Like it did to me. Since I had already thrown caution to the wind, I went looking for somewhere to take a nap.  
  
Now, I can understand a family _eating_ together. But why would they all sleep in the same room? Some things just aren't meant to be understood, I guess.  
  
There were three beds in the room I found. All different sizes. The first one was really hard, and really big. The second one was kind of smallish, and so soft I nearly fell in. It was like the circus, when the trapeze people fall into that big net, only way less fun than it sounds.  
  
The third bed was great. Comfortable, and my size. (Do people have bed sizes?) Apparently, porridge is somewhat of a sleep aid, because I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  
  
I don't know how long I was asleep before I heard the noise. I was having this really great dream, about how I was a princess.  
  
Then I realized I was hearing voices. Not like Joan of Arc voices. The kind where people are talking and you're not really listening. I opened my eyes, and saw three bears. BIG bears. Big bears wearing clothes.  
  
I am starting to realize how weird this all sounds, but I promised I'd write it down.  
  
THE BEARS were talking. Something about, "And she's still there!"  
  
I screamed and jumped out of the bed. I tried to remember one of those nature shows I saw on the Discovery Channel, the one about how to protect yourself from wild animals, but your brain never works right when you're scared like I was, and I was already having what my mom calls a "lapse of common sense," so I just looked for a quick exit.  
  
It turns out that bears not only have houses, but windows in their bedrooms. Their _second-story_ bedrooms.  
  
It also turns out that it is very easy to hurt yourself by jumping out of a window, even if it isn't _that_ far from the ground.  
  
When I landed, I heard something snap, and my wrist started to hurt really badly, but I was mostly concerned with getting out of the woods, so I ran.  
  
Wouldn't you?  
  
Mom was there when I got home, and she took a look at my arm and rushed me here. I told her my story on the way. She gave me a funny look and asked me not to tell anyone else.  
  
Oops.  
  
I have learned three things today.  
  
1. Bears have houses. Well, maybe not _all_ bears, but at least the ones today did. And they're not bad decorators, either.  
  
2. In case of fire, DO NOT jump out of a window. Even if you are on the second floor. Don't even do it when there _isn't_ a fire. You will get hurt.  
  
3. Adults do not believe anything that's supposedly "unbelievable" unless they can see it for themselves. Like when everyone thought the world was flat. They thought that guy who said it was round was crazy. Just like they're thinking about me right now.  
  
I think I'm going to change my story. I fell and hit my head. No, too cliché. And it doesn't explain my broken wrist. Maybe I lifted something WAY too heavy…  
  
Do you think they'd believe me if I said I just made it up for attention? 


End file.
